tened his
lips and went heroically on--"you are of course familiar with my wife's
story--you know all about those damned anonymous letters--and their
sequel?"

"Yes." Anstice met his gaze fully. "I know the story, and I am glad of
this opportunity to assure you of my unswerving belief in Mrs.
Carstairs' innocence of the charge brought against her. I hope you don't
consider my assertion uncalled-for," he added hastily.

For a long moment Major Carstairs said nothing, gazing ahead of him
thoughtfully, and Anstice studied the face of Chloe Carstairs' husband
with deep interest.

He said to himself that this man was a gentlemen and a man of honour.
There was something about him, something dignified, reserved, a little
sad, which won Anstice's usually jealously-withheld sympathy at once;
and although he had hitherto pictured Major Carstairs as harsh,
unforgiving, narrow-minded, inasmuch as he could not bring himself to
believe his wife innocent of a degrading charge, now that he saw the man
himself, traced the lines in his face which spoke of tragedy, noted the
sadness in his eyes, and heard the gentle note in his voice as he spoke
of Chloe, Anstice was ready to swear that this man had not lightly
disbelieved his wife.

If he had left her, it had not been done easily. He had surely acted in
accordance with his lights, which would permit no compromise in a matter
of honour; and as he now sat opposite to Major Carstairs, Anstice felt a
strange new respect springing up in his heart for the man who had had
the courage to stand by his inward convictions, however terribly,
tragically mistaken those convictions might have been.

When at length that long pause ended, Anstice was surprised by the
manner of its ending.

Major Carstairs leaned across the little table and laid his
square-fingered hand, brown with the suns of India, on Anstice's arm.

"From the bottom of my heart I thank you for those words," he said
earnestly. "I am glad to know my wife has one friend, at least, in
Littlefield, who is able to believe in her innocence."

"She has more than one, sir," returned Anstice significantly, as
Carstairs withdrew his hand. "Sir Richard Wayne is as firmly convinced
as I that Mrs. Carstairs has been the victim of a cruel injustice.
And----"

"Sir Richard? Ah, yes, he was always a true friend to Chloe." He spoke
absently and for a second said no more. Then he suddenly bent forward
resolutely. "Dr. Anstice, I see you are t